Snapped
by Rocket Surgery
Summary: I'm emotionless, then he's there, insulting Sirius, I'm no longer emotionless, I'm beating the living hell out of him. 6th year fic.
1. Chapter 1

I sit in the compartment, listless, staring out the window. I've come to the conclusion that emotions are useless, Dumbledore says I'm wrong, but he's not infallible, and Snape says that I need to control my emotions if I'm to have any chance of success against Voldemort. I have even buried my hate for the man, if only so I can fulfill my job as weapon.

A loud knock on the door breaks my thoughts, but I quickly recover and blank out my mind. I think of nothing. I didn't believe it was possible to think of nothing, during my Occlumency sessions with Snape over the summer my mind would always think about not thinking. With a little negative reinforcement from Snapes mental attacks and humiliating verbal abuse I learned to shut down all but basic instinct. The door slides open. Sighing, I turn to face the person that has interrupted me. Malfoy is with his perpetual goons Crabble and Goyle.

"Alright Potter? Where's your pet doggy?" he sneers.

The Occlumency shield disintegrates as various emotions pound against it trying to get out. Love for Sirius is quickly overwritten by pain from his loss, then regret at my actions, then anger at myself, and finally, overpoweringly, anger at Malfoy for breaking my shield. All pretense of remaining emotionless evaporates in just one second, and I give into it.

We make eye contact, and he takes a step back when he sees my face, full I'm sure of utter contempt and rage. His brainless goons block his way as he takes step back, confused expressions on their faces. I launch off the bench, Malfoy turns to push his goons away so he can get more room, but I'm there first. I grab the back of his robes, and yank him through the air into the compartment, slamming him against the window. His goons make a grab for me; I slam the heel of my palm into Crabble's nose, or was it Goyle? No matter, he staggers back, blood soaking his dress shirt and robes. The other pauses briefly, surprised by my physical attack, I don't wait for him. I kick him right bellow his knee, and he bellows in pain, falling to the floor of the car. I follow up with a kick to the face, close the door, and turn to face Malfoy. He's stunned, having had his head slammed into the glass. He sits on the floor between the two benches and looks up at me. I yank him to his feet and press him against the wall. I'm pounding my fists into him all over. Time seems to slow down and my vision seems many times sharper. Blood splatters me as I pound him, his face almost unrecognizable now; my hands are wet with blood. My knuckles and fingers are bruised; my left hand is actually broken. Malfoy slowly slumps to the deck; I sit down on the bench.

I sit in the compartment, listless, staring out the window.

I try and push the rage from my mind, but it isn't going anywhere, and my failure only makes me angrier. I think about the consequences for my actions. By the looks of it, the goons will be in the hospital wing for a day, Malfoy however, by the looks of him, might be there for a week, or even have to visit St. Mungos. His eyes are swollen shut; his face is one giant raised bruise. His nose is broken. Blood stains his blond hair. I think I broke one of his ribs too. He's unconscious. What are they going to do about it? Detention? Sure, who cares? They can't do anything else to their precious weapon. Hell they can't even give me much of a punishment for it might detract from my studies. As bitter as I am about the prophecy, I have to admit, I enjoy the great deal of power it grants me over my keepers. They're totally screwed without me, and while I haven't abused my power yet, they know I could, and I know they know it. I want them to know it. I sit in the compartment, listless, staring out the window. I kick Malfoy once in the side for good measure and resume my staring.


	2. Chapter 2

People are staring at me, what else is new? It seems I'm caught in a vicious cycle here. Every year the student body alternates from loving the Boy-Who-Lived, to hating him or being scared of him. Oddly it's almost a combination of the two. To the people that Malfoy harassed, I'm a hero, to the loyal mini Death Eaters at out school, I'm still their most hated enemy, and the rest of the school is torn between being afraid of me or liking me.

Ron and Hermione are confused as to why I'm not getting suspended for putting three students into the hospital wing. Ron thinks it was brilliant and is telling highly exaggerated stories about how the whole thing went down, despite the fact he was at the prefects' meeting with Hermione the entire time. I get a week of detention, that's it. Hermione is smart enough to figure out I'm not telling her something, she reads me like a book despite all my training.

People are quiet around me; they don't want to upset me into another "outburst" as the official records are calling it. I stare down the occasional idiot whose eyes are locked on my scar. Sometimes I mess with them. I've received another detention for scaring some 1st years into tears by yelling at them and showing them my scars.

Dumbledore's weekly meetings are getting repetitive.

"Harry, I know I've wronged you, but please don't use this prophecy against us. If you want to succeed you're going to need our help, and alienating us this way isn't helping," he says in that o-so-familiar kindly tone.

"People keep saying I need your help, for training, I know I do, that's why I'm here. For facing Voldemort though, you're dead wrong, there's no way I'm facing him with help. He'll just use them against me. If you want me to be your little tool you have to remove all the weakness," I'm starting to sound repetitive myself; these stupid debates certainly aren't helping me.

He gives an exasperated sigh, looking more tired and old than I've ever seen him.

I sit in potions class, listless, staring at the wall.

"Potter, ten points from Gryfindor for not paying attention," Snape is at it again, totally ignoring the Slytherins that seem just as bored as I am of his lecture. The Gryfindors in the room are all paying attention though; they know they have to if they want their house to have any points left.

I sit in potions class, listless, staring at the wall.

Look at me! I'm still not paying attention, the class is somewhat shocked, but I'm not taking this crap from Snape anymore. Blatant favoritism and harassment has gone on too long, it's just another thing making my life difficult. Someone behind me is kicking me under the table repeatedly. I ignore it.

"Potter! You're losing us points!" hisses Lavender, I hear Snape yelling at me over her harsh whisper, he's taking away a point for every second I don't pay attention. The Gryfindors are panicking, they're not whispering anymore.

"Potter snap out of it! You're losing us the house cup!"

"Harry what the bloody HELL are you doing?"

Snape is in my face, spittle flying everywhere as he yells at me, his greasy hair flailing as he gestures in my face.

"YOU'RE LOSING US POINTS!" screams Lavender, I've never seen her this angry.

I shove Snape out of my face; the surprised look on his face is totally priceless. He's more shocked than the class, and that's saying something. While he's sputtering incoherently I turn to Lavender.

"There are more important things that house points you dimwit!" My fist crashes on the heavy oak table, splitting it down the center. Splinters fly, and her cauldron crashes on the ground, fumes rise from the spilled potion and the cauldron makes a tremendous noise as it slams into the stone floor. I raise the volume of my voice over the students, "I'm tired of this, and I'm not putting up with the blatant favoritism and harassment anymore," I glare at Snape, who seems to have mostly recovered himself.

"You pushed me Potter," his voice is icy, the class is silent, "You'll regret that, I'll get you suspended, possibly expelled!"

"No you won't," I grin on the inside.

"Think you'll get off on your fame? Not this time, the entire class has witnessed your assault!"

"Use your Legilimancy skills on me, I'll _show_ you how I'm going to get off, and why you're going to return the points you took away," I drop my shield.

He can't resist, I knew he couldn't, the class has never seen anything like this. I've been practicing Occlumency with Dumbledore too; I'm good enough now so Snape doesn't know.

"Legilimens!" Hermione is the only one who recognizes the spell, and gasps.

Unlike Dumbledore's sneaky attacks, Snape is totally predictable. He uses the mental equivalent of brute force to shove into my mind, but the shield is gone, and I sense his surprise at the ease of his entry. We're standing in a featureless room. I slam the door behind him. He's confused, how did I learn these advanced skills? He buckles to his knees as I show him my life in fast forward. I spend an extra long time on all the bad parts, and skip over the good.

My mother is screaming as Voldemort kills her.

Voldemort is feasting on Unicorn's blood.

My hands are on Quirrell's face and his flesh is burning.

Ginny lays on the floor of the Chamber of Secrets, unmoving.

I'm fighting a Basilisk.

Dementors are all over; I'm falling off my broom.

Dementors are going to give Sirius the kiss of death.

Gouts of flame many meters long rocket out at me, burning my arm, I'm trying to avoid a huge Dragon.

My friends are bound to rocks under the lake; I'm swimming to the surface, running out of air.

I'm in a maze, terrible things are happening.

Cedric and I take the goblet, Cedric dies. I rewind and show it to him a half dozen times for good measure.

Voldemort returns.

I'm in detention with Umbridge, slicing my hand open over and over.

Hermione is cursed, and falls to the ground limp.

I'm at the Department of Mysteries, watching Sirius fall through the veil over and over.

I bundle up all my pain and shove it into Snape's mind. In the featureless room he falls to his knees winded, I open the door in my mind and leave. In class, the same thing happens, he falls to his knees gasping for breath.

I grab my stuff and walk out of the room.


	3. Chapter 3

Some acknowledgments to the kind people that reviewed:

Ja ni, that's very generous of you. I'm new to writing fan fiction, so it means a lot to hear some praise, makes me a little more confident. Thanks again.

Liese, I'm glad you like it, here's the next chapter.

Snapped, Chapter 3:

I'm way early for breakfast; the only other people in the great hall are a few quiet 7th year Slytherins, and a 1st year Ravenclaw. One of the Slytherin girls actually winks at me. I sit down and help myself to some cold cereal. I swear silently, Hermione has just walked into the hall; she's making a beeline for me. I can already here some sort of important "talk" coming.

"Good morning Harry," she says, sitting down across from me.

"Morning," I nod.

"Harry, you're acting very withdrawn. If you want to talk I'm here. You can't bottle up your emotions; they'll eat you up until you can't contain them. It's not a healthy way to live," I set down my spoon.

"I'm counting on it. If I don't bottle them up Voldemort is going to use them against me. Recently I've found that if I bottle them up, I can control when I release them, and I do it when it's to my advantage," I'm being patient, but she better not take this much farther.

"You think it's to your advantage to beat the snot out of students, and attack a teacher?"

"Has Malfoy been calling you 'Mudblood' recently? Have you seen Crabble and Goyle harassing the Gryfindors much lately? Have you noticed all the points Snape took away are back? Have you noticed he's ignoring me completely now, my potions grade is soaring. He's leaving Neville alone and he's doing as well as I am! If that's not using uncontrollable bursts of emotions to my advantage, then you tell me what is," gradually my tone gets harsher, "You wanna know a secret Hermione?"

"Yes,"

I tell her the prophecy. She's totally stunned, I can see the gears in her head turning, and it makes sense now, all the pressure I can put on the Order of the Phoenix. I finish my cereal quickly and leave her sitting at the table in contemplation.

"Harry! Wait!"

I keep walking, our little audience is watching, there's no need to make a scene here. Her hand lands on my shoulder and spins me around.

"Leave me alone," I say quietly.

"No. You hear me out," her voice is loud and clear, other students are coming through the door now.

"Don't make a scene here,"

"I'm your friend, stop pushing me away," I wince at how loud her voice is.

I grab her arm, and start to drag her out of hall. To my total shock she shoves me off. Instead of trying again I stride purposefully towards the door.

"Impedimenta!" the hex hits me in the back and I'm barely moving forward now. I can't believe she just hexed me in front of a growing group of students; none of the teachers are here yet thank Merlin. I'm fighting the hex; my speed is slowing increasing until I turn around to face her, finally free of the effects.

"You _will_ here me out," the look in her eyes is very determined, but this is ridiculous, it couldn't be so impossibly important I listen to her now. She's being totally unreasonable, embarrassing me; I'm getting pissed again.

"You curse me again and it's on," a circle of curious students is forming around us.

"Incarcerous!" thick ropes fly out of thin air at me, I can't believe she's pushing me like this. I dive sideways; the students around us take a step back. I flick my wrist, my wand detaches from the Auror's holster that Tonks gave me for my birthday. It lands in my hand as I roll to my feet.

I fire a babbling curse at her, she conjures a shield and it flies back at me. I summon a bench to block it. We're circling each other; I feint right and charge to her left. I fight well up close.

"Diffindo!" this time it's going to take more than a bench to block it, I summon the entire table, dishes crash to the floor, platters crack and food flies as the table launches in front of me. It is snapped neatly in half when the charm hits it. Things are escalating, had I not dodged that curse I would have received a nice gash on my leg. I need to end this. I can hardly believe this is Hermione I'm dueling.

"Expelliarmus!" I catch her wand and toss it over my shoulder. She's not done.

"Stop pushing me away!" she's in tears now and running at me, fist cocked. She's right in front of me, slamming away at my chest, I dodge back so she can't hit my face. I'm surprised at how strong she's hitting me, so is our little audience. I make a grab for a flying fist and hiss in pain as I miss; she jams 3 of my fingers. I take another step back, and succeed in nabbing the hem of her sleeve; I reverse directions and get her flailing arms under control, my arms around her. She's not done yet, she tries to knee me but I'm expecting it. Finally she gives up and is sobbing into my shoulder, it's a significant improvement to having slicing charms fired at me. She's nearly hysterical, eyes swollen and blind from crying, I lead her out of the great hall and towards the hospital wing. I resist the urge to comment on her outburst of emotion.


	4. Chapter 4

I apologize for the length of this chapter. It's short, but I thought it was a good place to stop, I will update again very soon with a more lengthy chapter. I promise!

Kitty: Thanks, I'm glad you like it and I'll try to update as often as possible.

Snapped – Chapter 4

Hermione and I talked for quite some time. I apologized of course. She told me how selfish she thought I was. She's probably right but I don't want her to be any more of a target, being close to me. Just thinking of Sirius, and all the other people close to me that have been hurt weakens my shields. I don't think I ever got past that stage in grief called "anger". I don't want to get past it, I need it to keep going. That's not to say I can keep it all bottled up for any real length of time. I'm damn good at Occlumency now, but wizards skilled at Occlumency have to release their pent up emotion sometimes. I need an outlet... now. My vision is getting hazy, and I need to break something. I stumble into an unused classroom, I don't care which one, no one is here and that's all that matters.

The shields go down once again and I let it out. I suppose it's wandless magic that gives me the strength to smash the teacher's heavy wooden desk into bits with my fists. I kick out at another desk; it careens into a nearby stack of chairs. I pick the entire stack up and throw it across the room. I notice that my fists aren't even connecting when I hit things, it's the invisible magic that surrounds them. I feel it around me; it's a different kind of armor, purely physical unlike an Occlumency shield. It's not just protection, it's power, and the hair on my arms stands on end. I imagine Malfoy making some bigot comment to Hermione, taunting Ron, or taking points from an innocent 1st year in the hall. I feed my anger like I'm stoking some roaring fire. The desks and chairs are all vibrating now.

"Mr. Potter! What in Merlin's name are you doing?" at the sound of McGonogall's voice I slam my mental shield up, and all the chairs and desks burst apart at their joints. I stare blankly at the chaos of the room, and then stumble to explain.

"I... I..." I give up, "I don't know professor."

"Not good enough, what were you doing in here? Did you do this?" she's gesturing at her desk which is cleanly snapped in half. Her small class of 7th year Hufflepuffs and Slytherins are outside the door, trying to get a peek at what's going on.

"I'm sorry professor... I was practicing... I made a mistake?" I mentally slap myself at how weak that sounds.

She glares at me for a long moment, "We'll finish this later, I have a class to teach,"

I make my way past her and out the door, the students stare at me, I'm used to it so I ignore it along with the whispering.

"Broke every piece of furniture in the room at once he did!"


End file.
